Creature Comforts USA - Art

I laughed all the way through. Perfect!

Hello...

Apologies for not-so-much posting.

I am:

1) working on thesis, which was by far the loudest voice in my head.
2) prepping for Masters classes, which start up again TODAY at 3:00. Ugh.
3) prepping Child for starting 1st grade tomorrow!!
4) watching ANTM cycle 9 on YouTube, because I am a complete and total addict.
5) prepping for next trip to San Diego, coming up soon!
6) eating way too many sweets
7) Twittering about all of these.

All of the above are true simultaenously.

Proof of Insanity

A snapshot of my brain, or What It's Like to Be a Crazy Person Writer:

Me: Aaaah, my revisions are turned in. Time to relax. Take a breather. Maybe zone out for a while. Read good books, watch some movies...

MELODY (popping up in my face): Yay! My turn! My turn! Okay, listen. I've been thinking a lot while you were gone. I've got some really great ideas for this book. You'll love 'em, honest. Okay, so you're going to have to totally scrap that first part, and my backstory, and that major portion of the plot and all, but TRUST ME! It will be BETTER! Totally, completely different, but better. Let's get to work! C'mon!

GG (sitting in corner, muttering): Nobody loves ME. I don't see why you're not rewriting ME. But oh no, go for the new and shiny after spending a whole month on JENNA. That's okay. Don't mind me. I'm just the middle child, sitting here alone. In the dark.

THESIS: OMG YOU BETTER WORK ON ME RIGHT NOW! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR A YEAR! I AM ALMOST DUE AND YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING! NOW NOW NOW!

Me: Shut up! All of you!! I mean it! No, I don't really mean it. But for a second? Please?

JENNA (emailing me from agent's desk): I miss you.

And finally...

Revisions turned in.

*THUD*

That's better.

A much better horoscope today:

You're going to shine today, and everyone will be unanimous in their praise of you. Don't start blushing when people keep going on and on about how smart and helpful you are -- just soak it in! This is the start of a very positive phase for you and your people.

Yeah, baby. Me AND my people. And since if you're reading this blog you're one of "my people", it's a positive phase for you too! Go us!

Actually it IS a very positive phase around these parts just now. I'm well on track to finish my revisions on deadline, which is Friday. Work is just the right amount of busy to be fun. I...er...kind of stopped the thesis work again while I was crunching on deadline, but I WILL pick that up again next week. At least I've made some good progress.

And we've been having some fun. We drove to Idaho this weekend for a friend's wedding, and it was absolutely gorgeous. I've only driven through a corner of Idaho before, so I had no idea of the spectacularness (yes, that is a word now. My word.). And the wedding was perfect and full of happy tears.

And...if I'm a good girl and get my revisions in...we get to go to Yellowstone this weekend. Yay!!

A big fat pshaw to you, sirs

This line was in my horoscope today:

Daydreaming about your future is a lot like playing pretend -- lots of fun, but not very appropriate for grownups.

I'd find it hard to disagree more. Daydreaming about the future is critical: if I didn't have the daydream of a book contract, keeping my head down every day working on revisions might seem pointless.

And who the heck deemed playing pretend as "not appropriate for grownups"? Pshaw.

I do get the point it's trying to make: focus on today instead of tomorrow. Okay. But I'd rather like to keep focusing on both, thanks.

{HUGS}

It's pretty common in online circles to give each other {HUGS}. (Or (HUGS) or [HUGS] or even ((((HUGS))))--you get the idea. When a friend or acquaintance is depressed, lost someone, is sick, or is just having a hard day, {HUGS} are sent and returned.

It's not the same thing, we know that. Supposedly real-body hugging actually increases the body's endorphins, a chemical reaction that can give us mild euphoria.

I like me a little mild euphoria.

But it's the best we can do without being anywhere near our friends. My "closest" friends are scattered over two countries. {HUGS} convey that we wish we could hug each other, give each other comfort and support, and it does help.

I'm incredibly lucky at this point in my life that I also get lots of real-life hugs. A six-year-old daughter is the tops in hugging. Plus husband, family...I get hugged every day.

It was not always so.

When I was 19, I set off for a year of study abroad in southern England (University of Sussex, woo-hoo!). I was part of an organized program, so I was taken care of. I lived with other students from the U.S., from England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Germany, the Seychelles, Portugal, everywhere. I had people I hung out with. I had fun.

I was also, simultaenously, desperately homesick and lonely. By December Christmas was coming and I knew that (a) I didn't have anywhere to go--the dorms closed down, and all my friends already had plans; and (b) I still wasn't going to see my family for at least 4 months, and I wouldn't be home for 6 months. One of the program directors offered to host the Christmas holidays at his house in London for whichever Study Abroad students wanted to come.

I didn't know what else to do, so I went. I think eight of us went, all studying at different schools across the U.K., guys and girls mixed. None of us knew each other. We'd only met the director once, in our whirlwind entry in September. We were going to stay at his little London apartment for a week, bunking in the two beds and the floor in rotation, doing whatever we decided to do.

It was an amazing Christmas. For whatever reason--enforced company, similarities, chemistry--we all bonded straight off. We had long, wine-fueled talks into the night. We laughed our asses off trying to cobble together a Christmas meal in a minuscule, unfamiliar kitchen with recipes that measured in metric. We sang Christmas carols, comparing American and English versions. We walked together, through lightly falling snow, to midnight Christmas mass in St. Paul's Cathedral.

And I realized, on that Christmas Eve, after hugging every one of them, that I hadn't had a hug since I left my parents. That I NEEDED hugs. That maybe part of my loneliness was that lack of touch.

So I was touched by this guy. Yeah, maybe it could be a little creepy. But I think he just realized that some people don't have hugs in their lives, bone-crushing squeezy real hugs. And everybody needs one, now and again.

{HUG}

Stuff

I keep hoping to have a gap-toothed picture to share with you--Child's first loose tooth is sooooo loose it's gotta be soon, but it's still hanging in. Watch this space (for an impending space) {g}.

I seem to have cursed myself by saying yesterday that the next part of revisions would be easier. I was absolutely positively WRONG. I battled with myself yesterday over every word, questioning every flippin' comma, and I'm not sure I made anything better. And I only plowed through 8 pages, which I have to go over again today anyway. *grumble*

Kids, don't listen if anybody ever tells you ANY of this job is easy. *bangs head quietly*

I also want to do a quick YAY shoutout to my girls, who are all pounding away on their keyboards this summer, staying focused, and kicking ass. Vic, Rosie, Linda, Jule, karen, Pam, Sara, Deb, Kathy, Kreek.... You guys keep me sane, and are my inspiration all.

Oh, I forgot how much I love this song.

http://www.pandora.com/music/song/toad+wet+sprocket/walk+on+ocean

Fleeting thoughts (thank goodness)

Status:
Step 1 of Major Revision: Check.
On to Step 2, much less stressful.

Meanwhile, random thoughts I had while attending a jazz concert (trumpet/piano duo) yesterday:

--Is it bad to fantasize about chopping the head off the Amazonian sitting in front of me, so I can see? Her neck level would be just about right.

--(craning around Amazonian) Wow, it's crazy what the pianist is doing with his hands when you can see them.

--These guys are good.

--I despise people who get all agro on other people. Amazonian actually got visibly angry at (a) the slight pump of someone's oxygen machine (head-turning, "what is that noise?") and (b) the 80+ old man humming along happily to himself under his breath. She SHUSHED him. I think if you're 80+ and you've made it to a concert, especially in a natty suit, you should be allowed to happily hum quietly to yourself, thank you. It wasn't bothering anyone else. Reasons to chop her head off: 2.

--Okay, they're good, but I do wish every once in a while they would play the actual melody. Just, you know, once through. I think perhaps I am not a true jazz person.

--Ooooh, there's a nice melody...no, gone now. I shall just sing in my head until they get back to it.

--My child is the youngest one here by FAR, and is extremely well-behaved. Yay.

--Hmm, perhaps it's actually healthier for Amazonian, who expresses her annoyance to everyone, than me, who seethes silently at her. Something to think about. I wish I was one of those people who don't even notice these things.

--*singing in head*

Usually I think of plot points, or daydream about my characters, during these concerts. Yesterday I was a little burnt out on all that, so this is what I got. :)

Also, last night I had a dream that George Balanchine (yes, I know he's dead) created a ballet just for me, all on skateboards. Hmmm.

Not really a post.

Still writing. Still an achingly dull and empty blog, for now.

I apologize.

In the meantime, Maureen is having adventures,

Gary is making very funny lists of what not to do in murder mysteries,

and Rose is having yummy drinks.

I did get to see an exhibit this weekend wherein I saw the originals of: the Wicked Witch's hat from the Wizard of Oz, George Clooney's Batman costume, Indy's leather jacket and whip, Darth Vader's cape and helmet (I looked into his eyes and got a little chill), and a whole mess of other Star Wars and Star Trek stuff. Very coolio.

Break over...later, gators.

Adventure! Not.

1:30 AM, this morning

I wake with that middle-of-the-night something-is-wrong alarm, my heart thrumming.

Me (whisper): "If you turned off the sprinklers, why do I hear something running?"
Hubby (sleepy whisper back): "I was just going to ask you that..."

I push out of bed, pad over to the sprinkler control, flip on the horrible blinding light. It is set to OFF. Yet water is clearly running, loud, under my feet. This is Bad. I inform hubby of Badness. He comes out rubbing his eyes and turns the sprinkler on...it makes nasty glugging broken noises...and then off. Still water running.

Me (knowing this is probably a recurrence of the Sprinkler Breakage we had the first week we moved in, but not wanting to admit it): "Do you think we need to go outside and check?"

Hubby: "Sounds like recurrence of Sprinkler Breakage. We'd better."

We fumble around for flashlights and appropriate clothing for outside at...now 1:40 AM. We can hear the water sploshing from around the house...it's pouring up from the sprinkler main, flooding down into our crawlspace. Hubby opens the crawlspace door, and I stare down into it. I am the only one who can fit in there. To fit in there I must contort my body like a gymnast between a little narrow dirty usually spider-infested opening, in the dark, this time landing in I'm-not-sure-how-deep water. But I have to go in there to turn the sprinkler main off. I look at my sandals.

Hubby: "You'd better take those off."

Me: *sigh*

I take them off. I maneuver myself barefoot into the obscenely small opening, getting my butt all wet. I feel for the water depth with my feet--it's mid-calf. And COLD. But it's going to get deeper the longer I wait.

I jump in and try not to shriek. It's not just cold. Our water comes from snowmelt--it's like jumping into a snowbank. Calf deep, barefoot. In the middle of the night.

I slosh over and turn the lever, and thankfully the water stops. Then I just have to pry myself out--which is harder, somehow; I actually got stuck for a minute--and traipse back to the house, carrying my sandals, wet and muddy.

It took half an hour before my legs were warm.

2:15 AM

Me (wide awake in bed, staring at the ceiling): "Well, that was interesting."

New bookage!

NEWSFLASH: The Mammoth Book of Vampire Romance is out on the shelves, both virtual and shelf-like.

Vicki Pettersson has a story in this anthology. I've read it, and it is phenomenal. You must read it.*

Go forth. I am back to the book.



*Because even though she has the twin annoying habits of being calm and reasonable in the face of my freakouts and being way too often Right, she is a damn good storyteller.

Random Thoughts from this weekend

--I. Love. This. Book. Love love love. Love this book. LOVE. This is me on paper.

--Insomnia SUCKS. I can't even write when I can't sleep. My brain is stuck on high spin cycle. And the next day (that would be today) my brain is stuck in Dull.

--Hubby is awarded extra super bonus points for taking Child to the bookstore for more than an hour so I could work.

--We are officially in "gorgeous weather" mode. Must enjoy it while it lasts.

--Fighter jets are very loud when they take off right in front of you.

--It's very cool to see your daughter perched up on top of a fighter jet. (not, you know, when it's flying)

--It's amazing to see your daughter perform in her first play. And make it through, and beam afterwards.

--Betsy and Tacy is still a good book.

--If the dream that I had this morning comes true someday, even close, I will be a happy camper. Well, not the vampire part. But the rest...yeah, baby.

That is all.

Ha ha ha ha ha

I am such a geek.

http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1823766

Don't mind the absence of the person supposed to be posting on this blog. I'm just a little taken up with something else right now. In the meantime, I'll share one of my favorite recipes. Healthy, yummy, and perfect for summer.

From FoodFit.com:

Grilled Chicken with Oranges and Avocado

This recipe serves:

4

Preparation time : 20 minutes
Cooking time : 20 minutes

Ingredients

For the chicken:
1 cup low-fat or non-fat plain yogurt
1/4 cup minced red onion
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro
2 tablespoons honey
salt to taste
freshly ground black pepper
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, 4 to 6 oz. each

For the garnish:
1 avocado
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
2 oranges, peeled and sectioned
1 small red onion, thinly sliced

Cooking Instructions
1. For the chicken: Mix all the ingredients except the chicken in a large bowl. Add the chicken to the mixture and coat evenly. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for 30 minutes or over night.

2. Preheat the grill or broiler.

3. Remove the chicken from the marinade and discard the marinade. (This protects against cross-contamination.) Sprinkle the chicken with salt and pepper.

4. Place the chicken on the grill or under the broiler and cook until the juices run clear, 6 to 8 minutes per side.(I usually do 10 per side)

5. In the meantime, peel, core and chop the avocado and toss it with the lime juice quickly so that it doesn't discolor. Add the oranges, onion and cilantro. Season with salt and serve on top of the chicken.

SCREEECH!

That's me, switching gears.

(awesome image borrowed from http://www.aims-nc.org/)

Hello again, Jenna. It's nice to see you.

Confession

Dear Melody:

I cannot BELIEVE I just did that to you. Seriously. I don't know what happened, but it just...wow. It just took off there, didn't it? I'm still in shock myself, and I imagine you're probably kind of a little upset right now.

Ahem. Don't look at me like that. Your eyes are freaking me out.

I didn't mean for that to happen. Er...any of that. So you don't really need to...

Put down the longbow. Please. Yes, I realize I gave it to you in the first place. But I don't really think now is the right time to--

Hey. Stop that! No, I won't change it. I won't. It's good. Believe me, the readers* are going to like that part. Even if it is fairly awful...

HEY. That was uncalled for. Watch out, missy, or it's just going to get worse in the next chapter.

{ducking}

me

*This is assuming readers, yes, we are thinking positive.

Book Love

In my regular every-few-months surge of new-book love...

I'm finally reading Ink Exchange by Melissa Marr, and yes, so far it is drawing me in as much as Wicked Lovely did. Unfortunately this is dangerous, as I was doing so well working head-down on MELODY last week. I was forced to leave IE at home lest I succumb and spend the whole lunch with my feet up on my desk, in Melissa's pretend world instead of my pretend world.

In addition to that, I had 3 gift cards to cash in. The one at Hastings was all for me. (and it was buy 3 teen titles get one free! Until the end of July!) I snagged:

• Vampire Academy, by Richelle Mead. Even though I'm still not much of a vampire fan in general, this keeps getting rec'd by friends.
  
• Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson. Ever since I saw Maureen's video with Libba Bray I knew I had to read their books. Reading their blogs confirmed it. So I also got:
• A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray. I realize I am the last YA reader on the planet to pick up this one. I'm looking forward to it.
• Enna Burning by Shannon Hale. Silly as it is, I first picked up Shannon Hale because I liked her website (back when I was working on mine. *cough*). I really loved Princess Academy. So this is next!

The Borders gift cards went to Child, who is discovering the first joys of reading chapter books on her own. I barely restrained myself from buying Noel Streatfield's books--they're just a little too long right now--but I did give in and bought Betsy-Tacy for her. I loved those books! I also got a couple in the Jewel Fairy series, which she is into all on her own, and Mary Margaret, Center Stage, which looks perfect for my little actress/dancer.

Book love, two generations.

Wall-E and the not-lesson

Last evening Hubby and I took Child to see Wall-E.

I was a bit worried. When I'd seen the preview and read all the glowing reviews, my primary thought had been, "Wow, this may be the first Pixar movie I don't want to see."

See, I'm a contrarian, deep down. I hate to be manipulated, and I hate doing things that everybody wants me to do. So when I saw that Wall-E had such a strong "message" AND that everybody and their bastard stepchild wanted me to GO ALREADY, I didn't wanna.

But I've loved every other Pixar movie--they've never been schmaltzy or messagy--so I sucked it up and went. And yes, Virginia, I loved it. It was endearing, and a good story, and I went along for the ride. We all came out buoyed up by a sense that love will prevail. That YES, we COULD clean up the planet and make it a wonderful place, dang it!

And then an Old Gold cigarette pack landed at my feet.

Sitting in the car parked next to us were three girls in their late teens or early twenties, already with that hard look, eyebrows plucked and hair scraped back into rumpled, greasy ponytails. The one in the back was lighting a cigarette--clearly the last one from the pack she'd just tossed out the window--with a baby in a carseat sitting next to her. She looked at me, realized I'd seen her do that, and quickly looked away.

I was astounded. Hadn't they SEEN Wall-E? Didn't they know how trash would pile up if we all did that? Didn't she KNOW about the horribleness of second-hand smoke, especially to a baby? Did she not have a brain?

My six-year-old was with me, and she'd seen it too. I had to do something to reset the balance. But what should I do? Toss the pack back in the girl's window? Give her a tongue-lashing? Tell my child, loudly, how littering was wrong?

I did none of the above. I calmly walked around the pack, opened the door, and let Child into the backseat. Then I turned, stooped, picked up the empty pack, and took it with me.

I didn't look at the girl again, but I know she saw me, watched me take her trash away to put it where it belongs. I know my daughter saw me too. I figured that was better, if either of them thought about it, than rubbing her nose in it. It was a better lesson by example, without being lesson-ish.

And isn't that what Wall-E would have done?